How many ways can I paint the same scene? I haven't found out the answer yet, but evidently, a lot! The original inspiration for these came from a few shots I took of the Deschutes River, near Bend, OR, years ago... I keep finding new ways to paint the scene, and enjoying every moment. I've split it into panels, made the trees at times deciduous and at others evergreen, made the water still or rippling, included the sky... or not, background mountains... or not, painted it in morning, evening & daytime light... and I doubt I'm done, either.

One of the hardest things for me to do is write a process statement, which many shows require. I have, um, several processes and it's rather random which one I use on any given painting. My main process is Whatever the Painting Calls For, which is not a good answer to the question. One of my methods is Painting in Layers, often involving a technique called Back to Front, possibly in combination with Top to Bottom, and sometimes including Underpainting or Color Sketching.

But not always. Sometimes it's Middle Out and others it's Light to Dark. Or Dark to Light. Oh, and Grid & Transfer, not to mention Diving Right In Without Bothering to Sketch.

In any case, one thing that plagues all of my methods, with the possible exception of Section by Section, is Forgetfulness. I really hate this method, but it loves me.

I'm not a backtracker. I don't know what it is about retracing my steps, but I just don't like to do it. I've been known to go into Portland, an hour's drive, to do three errands, and come home having done only two because I missed the exit on the last one and couldn't be bothered to turn around. Luckily, I'm married to the same type. John and I once drove 60 miles over washboarded dirt roads to the north side of the Grand Canyon because we missed the exit for the official entrance. (It turned out to be a great experience, although sane people would have been driving a 4x4, not a Honda Civic.)

This aversion to carries over into my painting practice. Plein air (on location) works have always been hit-or-miss ventures.

Last week I signed 42 paintings. In one day. Why? Because I had 36 abstract pieces from my residency, all stretched & varnished and ready to go except for a signature, plus the six landscapes I'd completed since getting into my temporary studio digs. And because I always put off signing my paintings until the last minute. The last minute (a show that weekend) had arrived. And the only thing I hate about art is signing my paintings.

Desperate times call for desperate measures, but really, what does it say about me that after inadvertently plopping my paintbrush into my coffee cup (instead of the correct receptacle, aka the playdough container) I actually considered, briefly, drinking it anyway. Notice there's no question mark at the end of that statement. Because I know what it says about me:

I am SO uncomfortable experimenting. I know that speaks to my type-A, control-freak, perfectionist personality. It's strange, because my work is often bold and I delight in breaking the "rules" of composition and color-- you'd think I was the brave, adventurous type. And I like to think I am. But it's all been line-upon-line, here-a-little, there-a-little, and it's all been in oils. I suppose all progressive learning is experimenting, in a sense, but 'til now, it's all been rather safe. 'Til now. During my January art residency, I began playing around with acrylics

I have decided. I shall start blogging. Again. (More on that, below.**) I've always liked to write and have always hated it, too. How is it you can have so much to say and then nothing occurs to you as soon as you're in front of a keyboard? And isn't it a bit much, anyway, trying to be an artist and a writer? Well. I recently spent a month in Vermont doing an art residency and as part of my social contract with supporters, I wrote a daily update of my progress. It was intimidating at first, but I grew to enjoy the feeling of debriefing to an interested party(ies). I also found that writing about the art I was making helped me to clarify my own thoughts about it. So here I go again!

**If you are interested in reading what the previous iteration of blogger-me had to say, you can find it at http://rachelharveyartist.blogspot.com/. I was pretty hit-and miss throughout, and I no longer maintain it, but it's out there in the ether still. The last "real" entry was in May 2012.